


Et tu, Kara?

by UselessLesbianLaughter



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Identity Reveal, Kara Danvers Doesn't Know that Lena Luthor Knows, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Post-Season/Series 04 Finale, SuperCorp, There's no sex just a knife, This is erotica for lesbians, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-08 00:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19095841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessLesbianLaughter/pseuds/UselessLesbianLaughter
Summary: Post season 4 finale. Lena knows Kara is Supergirl. For the past week, she's been mourning the last person she could trust, ignoring Kara's numerous calls and text messages. Finally, she gives in, inviting Kara to her office, 8PM sharp. When she arrives, Lena's waiting for her with a knife. The rest is unresolved sexual tension with strong undertones of betrayal and a hint of the love that could've been."When you look at someone through rose-coloured glasses, all the red flags just look like flags." Lena takes her glasses off. Kara's, too.





	Et tu, Kara?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a oneshot. I think. If you'd like me to do a follow-up, let me know in the comments. Title from the famous line, "Et tu, Brutus?"

 The twinkling lights of National City post-sunset mirror on the darkened windows of L-corp, all but one at the very top that still cascades a dim hue implying activity, a late night at work perhaps, after all, that was not at all unusual for the office of Lena Luthor.

 Inside it, a single lamp on the shelf, by the wall, is still left burning, casting a warm light on the whiskey trickling into Lena’s glass. She takes a sip, not facing the door, before hearing knocking. Not turning around, she says,

 “Enter.”

 The sharp click of the door handle and light, energetic steps approaching confirm her suspicion that the knocker had, indeed, been Kara Danvers, if she could still call her that. 8PM sharp, just like she said in her text.

 “Lena, I was worried about you,” Kara says, her voice ripe with anxiety but soft.

 Her purse thuds on Lena’s couch with a familiar ease, a comfort few people dare to feel in the office of National City’s most influential woman. At the sound, Lena turns to face her.

 She stands by the couch and wears a red sweater over black skinny jeans and grey loafers. Her purse is simple, large and black. The outfit looks rather hastily thrown together yet the air it carries is clear _–_ humble. Of course, recognizing the brands will tell you that the whole outfit together costs more than a grand but Lena doesn’t have long to ponder that, she’s far more fixated on the piece that ties it all together _–_ the glasses.

 “Well, you really needn’t have,” Lena says in a low voice, her eyes drift back to the ground as if searching for something long lost. Then, they light up. She lifts her head and grins.

 “Drink?” she asks, holding up her glass.

 “Oh, I shouldn’t,” Kara replies out of sheer habit.

 “You sure? I assure you it’s good, dates back to the mid-19th century. You know, it took more than a hundred hours just to craft the mold for the decanter. This,” she glanced at the mahogany liquid twirling in her glass, “is dedication.”

 “Gosh, I don’t think I’d ever dare to drink something so old.”

 Lena bites back a laugh.

 “Really? I thought you of all people wouldn’t have a problem with that,” she says, walking over to Kara, leaving barely a foot of distance between them. She reaches her arm out, offering her own drink to her.

 “Go on, try a sip. It won’t kill you.”

 Hesitantly, Kara accepts the glass and takes a sip. She’s never been one to savor whiskey but this one’s divine. She twirls it in her mouth, not daring to swallow right away. When she does, the bite lingers pleasantly at the back of her throat. She hands the glass back to Lena gratefully.

 “Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” she asks.

 “All in due time,” Lena replies, setting the glass down on the table next to her. Standing fully upright again, she brushes her fingers over the rim of Kara’s glasses.

 “How long have you been wearing these?” she asks.

 “Ever since I was a kid,” Kara shrugs.

 “Right. And you need them? Kara?”

 “Of course.”

 “But not to see, do you?” Lena breathes. She’s taken a step closer, leaving bare inches between the two of them.

 Lena gently traces the thin gold chain of her necklace down to the ornament hidden by the V-neckline of her dress and pulls it out, revealing a stiletto knife boasting a beautiful polished white marble grip.

 “Kara Danvers…” she says the name as if testing if it still tastes the same rolling off her tongue, “you really had me fooled.”

 Lena pushes the sharp tip of the knife through the fabric of Kara’s red sweater. It’s flat, perfectly positioned between two ribs, pushing into her skin.

 “If I pushed this through, if I could, it would immediately puncture your lung, causing pneumothorax almost instantly. Medical language for a collapsed lung. The air gets out and pushes on the lung from the outside, making it difficult to breathe,”

 “Lena, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

 “Oh, I know. First, what they call haemothorax, the lung filling with your own blood until you can no longer breathe. That, and the blood loss from the wound will soon cause hypoxia, insufficient oxygen, and _–_ without immediate medical attention _–_ death.”

 “Lena, please, you’re confused,” Kara begs. Her eyes well with genuine fear.

 “Funny, I’ve never felt clearer in my life,” Lena bites back.

 “You don’t really want to hurt me, do you?” Kara pleads. She's afraid. Not of blades or bullets but of what she might've done.

 “That’s just the thing, isn’t it,” Lena says, pushing the blade harder, taking a step forward, forcing Kara to take a step back, then another, and another, until she’s backed her into a wall, “I can’t. You must know by now that I _know_.”

 “If you’d just let me explain,” Kara stumbles over her words, avoiding eye contact. 

 Lena supports her free hand on the wall over Kara’s shoulder. She whimpers, feeling Kara’s heartbeat in her palm, hearing it, almost. Her heart’s thumping. She looks her up and down. The blade hasn’t drawn any blood which grows her confidence, she pushes down harder, and even harder until she can’t push any harder. Still, not even a scratch.

 “You’ve had plenty of time to explain.”

 Lena’s hands are steady but her face is trembling. She can feel Kara’s breath, hot and heavy, on her cheeks, and she’s never seen her eyes this up close. They’re oceans. Big and blue and captivating enough in their beauty to force one to forget the secrets that lie beneath the surface, secrets that kill like tidal waves and whirlpools. Her lips, too, look fuller up close, softer, even. Lena leans in and brushes Kara’s hair behind her ear.

 “I thought you were different,” she whispers into her ear, biting back the lump in her throat. She pulls back and searches Kara’s eyes, for what, she’s not sure. Giving up, her eyes drop back down to Kara’s lips. She leans in once more.

 Their lips barely brush against each other. Instinctively, Kara's eyes fall shut and, shivering, she reaches out her palm to cup Lena’s cheek. Her fingers can hardly caress it before it’s out of reach again. Her chest, too, feels lighter, in a way, and, in another, the clicks of Lena’s heels walking away weigh heavier than anything else in the world could.

 “You broke my heart. I hope you can live with that.”

 Lena’s last words echo before the door closes behind her, leaving behind aged whiskey, broken promises, and Kara Zor-El slowly slipping down her wall with empty blue eyes staring up at the starless night sky. As they hit the ground, her glasses crack.

**Author's Note:**

> I disappear off the face of the Earth for a while and then show up with an angsty one-shot begging for feedback like the feedback vampire I am. What can I say? No beta this time so if you hate it, blame it all on me. Happy Pride, I guess, leave a comment to support a lesbian!


End file.
